Home

I can grow so empty that I become full,
And am so lost, but know right where to go.

I will run fast, but while walkin slow,
And everyday; a solemn road.

This year spring will come, flowers, beauty, sun.
In cold, birds do fly, chase sun and sky.

South I wish yet West I am.
Always travelin’ land.
To find love and home,
My heartbeat always knows.